Happy New Year

Good morning and Happy New Year.  Well, I feel wonderful.  I have had my coffee and the words are virtually flying off my fingers and onto this blog.  If you ever want me to "spill the beans" then give me a cup of coffee....better than any alcohol.  OK, OK, settle down now.  I am teasing.....don't get all upset with your mom, your aunt, your sister, your wife, your friend.....alcohol is better. Teasing again!!!!!!!

45 years ago tonight (You should have been here just now as the hubby and I worked out the math to decide 45 years ago.  You would have been laughing or crying.  I am still trying to decide if it was funny.  Somehow the words "negative number" came into play.), anyway, back to the 45 years ago tonight, I was a mere child at the age of 18.

I have told you that my childhood revolved around our small country church where everybody knew everybody else.  Well on this night, 45 years ago, that was no exception.  Mom and Dad had a party at our house for the people of the church.  Now by the time I was 18, I finally, whew! finally!, had a boyfriend. 

What 18 year old wants to be a part of their parents' party?  Maybe you, but not me.  I had a boyfriend and I wanted to go out.  Shawnee, here we come!  One stipulation.  I had to be home by, get this, 11:00.  My normal curfew was 10:30 so I got a lousy extra 30 minutes on New Year's Eve for Pete's sake.  What!??!  Pop Dixon was at the party and he was 85 if he was a day...maybe 95!  How can this injustice be?  I was 18 years old, ready to be on my own, explore the world, and soon was...well another 3 years but that is another story.  I could not understand this at the time.  Now 45 years later I still don't, but I have made peace with it. 

Moral of the story:  Kids, moms and dads may make decisions for you that seem strange and maybe even a little insane, but you have to deal with it and not act out.  Someday, it will be revealed to you OR NOT.  You just have to let it go, Louie.

Let me tell you about Pop Dixon.  He was a lovely, nice old gent who lived alone about a mile from our church.  He absolutely loved to sing.  You could hear his voice over all the rest.  The trouble with that is that he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.  Every note was off key and he was loud, but he did make a joyful noise.  He grabbed one of my sister's at every opportunity to play for him.  Often after church as the rest of us were getting in our cars to leave, we could still hear the piano and Pop Dixon's bellowing out a joyful noise.  I sure miss his joyful noise.  I am sure he is in heaven right now, but his voice is like that of an angel.

I love you and Happy New Year!